


The Street Rat and the Butler

by ZanDiAngelo



Category: Batman (Comics), Batman - All Media Types
Genre: (or at least he's trying to be), Alfred Pennyworth feels, Alfred Pennyworth is the Best, Alfred Pennyworth is the glue that holds this family together, Bruce Wayne is a Good Parent, Fluff and Angst, Friendship, Gen, Good Parent Alfred Pennyworth, Hurt/Comfort, Jason Todd Feels
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-07-22
Updated: 2019-12-20
Packaged: 2020-07-11 10:20:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 13,107
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19926481
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ZanDiAngelo/pseuds/ZanDiAngelo
Summary: Alfred was crucial to Jason's early days at the manor. With Bruce's busy days as Brucie Wayne and long nights as Batman, somebody had to care for the boy! This is a collection of stories about Alfred and Jason learning to understand and appreciate each other.AKA: This is a bunch of Alfred & Jason appreciation fics





	1. 1. The Grocery Store

Alfred's eyes drifted from the stoplight to the rearview mirror. It reflected his latest charge sitting in the backseat, fists clenched tightly in his lap. His eyes flitting around the car. From the leather seat, to the door handle, to the window, and occasionally to the back of Alfred's seat. The light turned green, prompting Alfred's focus to reluctantly to shift back to the traffic. Contrary to Master Dick's popular belief that he was unshakable, he nearly choked the night Master Bruce jumped out of the Batmobile, towing a dirty, frightened boy behind him. He, of course, didn't even allow a twitch of his mustache when he led the child upstairs to feed him and show him how to work the shower. Even now, sitting in a thick silence, he didn’t allow his composure falter. His charge too seemed content with the silence. Alfred assumed the child would introduce noise and chaos to the manor as Master Dick did when he arrived. But, instead the manor somehow seemed quieter. For the week he’d been there, the boy seemed to hide in various rooms. He wouldn’t emerge or speak unless Master Bruce came home. Even when the butler called the boy to lunch, he wouldn’t make eye contact or say anything more than a mumbled ‘thank you’. Alfred attempted to not allow it to bother him. But it did. He wasn’t used to be disliked, not without reason. So he continued to try to be welcoming and warm. But so far, without any success.

Due to an extra hungry mouth living at the manor, he needed to restock on suitable food. Perhaps even purchase a few things the boy liked. Internally the butler scolded himself. _The boy has a name. His name is Jason._ Reluctant to leave the- _Jason_ alone, He brought him along. Of course, Jason came without argument. Or without saying anything really. He slipped on his ratty red jacket and jumped into the back of the car. Then Alfred climbed in, initiating their usual silence. Alfred had given up attempting to make conversation after day two. Not wanting to cause Jason any discomfort, he now stayed quiet.

Finally, they pulled into the parking lot of one of Gotham’s ShopRite stores. Alfred adjusted his coat, ensuring his shopping list was still in his pocket. He watched Jason slide out of the car before locking the doors. Once inside the store, he secured a cart.

“Please stay near Master Jason.” He said gently. “I would not care to lose you.”

Jason, of course, said nothing. He just gave a small nod.

Content his charge wasn’t going anywhere, Alfred began shopping. Efficiently, he and Jason wove the various aisles collecting their items. Jason began to loosen up some, quietly offering to fetch things off of shelves and put them in the cart. He stopped looking at his shoes and more at the colorfully stocked shelves. Fairly soon, they were nearing the end of the list.

“I don’t think I’ve eva seen so much food at once.” Jason mumbled quietly, more to himself than Alfred.

“Surely you have been taken grocery shopping before young sir?” Alfred questioned, confused.

“Yeah, but,” Jason’s eyes dropped back to his shoes. “Never got to put so much in the cart before.” He quickly shot a glance at the cart. “You sure we can get all this? You gotta a buncha coupons or something?”

Alfred could feel his heart (yes he had one unlike _some people_ ) tear a little. “Do not worry, my grocery budget will cover this. Is there anything _you_ would like young sir?”

Jason looked up. His blue eyes stared at the butler in confusion. “Huh?”

“Are there any particular foods you enjoy? We have collected everything I need for my usual preparations, but we should also purchase things you enjoy.”

“Everythin’ you made so far is good.”

“Thank you young sir, but you haven’t answered my question.”

Jason looked back to his shoes, hunching his shoulders. “No thanks, m’fine.”

Refusing to lose progress, Alfred didn’t push. Instead, he began pushing the cart again. Jason followed. The butler began to weave another aisle. In his peripheral vision he could see Jason’s confused expression.

“Just ensuring we got everything.” He stated. “Wandering through the aisles can often trigger an item that didn’t make my list.” An idea struck him. “Do you like macaroni and cheese?”

“Yeah, mom use’ta make it sometimes.”

“Did she have a recipe?”

“Nah, she’d just buy Kraft or somethin’ and follow the instructions.”

“We can pick up some of that,” Alfred tried not to visibly shudder, “or we can pick up ingredients and make homemade macaroni and cheese?”

For a moment Alfred didn’t think he’d get a reply. Before he could backtrack however,

“You can just _make_ mac n’ cheese?”

“It’s not that difficult really. You can adjust it to suit your taste. I prefer mine with cheddar and pepper-jack cheese.”

“… Let’s try it.”

They rounded the corner and headed to the dairy section. After collecting their cheeses, they went to find pasta. Jason’s mouth dropped when Alfred said they could make homemade pasta someday when they had more time. As they exited the pasta aisle, Alfred tried his luck again.

“Macaroni is one good meal. Anything else you think we should get?”

Jason looked down again, _darn._ “Maybe, maybe we could get some hotdogs? Sometimes,” he swallowed, “sometimes my mom would slice up hotdogs to put in the mac n’ cheese.”

“Certainly.” _Victory._

Jason appeared surprised, like he didn’t believe the butler was serious. “If we got extra, we could make chili dogs too.” He twisted his sweatshirt sleeve. “They’s were mom’s specialty.”

“Is there a particular brand of chili you like?”

The boy shrugged. “Nah, she’d just buy whatever was on sale.”

“If you’re willing to try it, I picked up a delicious chili recipe from one of Master Bruce’s friends.”

“Sounds good.”

As they gathered the hotdogs and chili ingredients, Alfred gently prodded Jason for more things he liked. Soon bananas, extra-crunchy peanut butter, and peach jelly were stacked in the cart. Then they went and stood in a checkout line.

“If you do not mind Master Jason, I would like to make one more stop.”

“Uh sure. What for?”

“Tea and some bread.”

Jason glanced back at the aisles. “Don’t they got bread and tea here?”

“Bah! They’re selection of teas is paltry at best.” Alfred sniffed. “You will get to sample the best bread in Gotham city at our next stop.”

The boy appeared more interested. “Sounds good tah me.”

0000ooo0000

After loading the bags into the car and pulling out of the parking lot, Alfred began driving deeper into the city. Large shopping chain stores slowly melded into smaller local businesses. Though the buildings badly needed new paint and repairs and the streetlights needed fresh bulbs, the characters walking the sidewalks didn’t ooze danger as in other shabby parts of the city. Instead, the people matched the buildings, a little run down but welcoming regardless.

“Here we are young sir.” Alfred parked in front of a faded green building with a sign that read ‘Granny’s Grocery Emporium’.

A little bell chimed as they walked in. Alfred inhaled the scent of fresh bread coming from behind the counter on their left. Glancing down at his charge, he watched as Jason too took a deep breath. A girl behind the counter waved, before moving to the register to help a couple. Alfred began walking to the shelves, checking over his shoulder to ensure Jason was following. He was, but with attention clearly fixed in the bread’s direction.

“They prepare fresh baked goods every day.” Alfred informed him. “You may pick out some bread after we find my tea.”

A small smile may have graced the butler’s face as he watched Jason nod absently, still entranced by the wonderful smell. Sharp, earthy smells welcomed them to the tea section. Granny’s held the largest selection of true teas in the city. Loose leaf, tea bags, they had it all. Alfred began searching for his few favorites he kept his personal stash stocked with. It had depleted rather quickly this month as Master Bruce and Master Dick were wearing his patience thin with their fights.

“Didn’t know there could be so much tea.” Jason mumbled to his right. “Mrs. Costa next to us loved just plain ol’ honey. Sometimes she’d let me come over for tea an’ cookies.”

“If you would like to get a box of honey tea we can do so.”

“Nah, it was kinda gross anyway. Like warm water that maybe sat next to a honey jar at some point.”

“Let us continue to the bakery then.”

They walked back to the front of the store. Alfred set his tea boxes on the counter. The smiling girl began scanning and bagging the boxes. “Is that everything for you today?”

“Actually Miss, we would like to purchase some bread as well.”

“Excellent! The rye and white just came out of the oven. But we have our entire selection that was all freshly baked today too!”

“Two loaves of wheat and-” Alfred paused. “A loaf of white as well.”

The smiling girl disappeared behind a swinging door before returning with a bag that smelled of absolute heaven. She then bagged two loaves from the display case. “I’ve never seen you get white Mr. Pennyworth. Special occasion?”

Alfred smiled back, “You could say that.”

Alfred paid for the tea and bread. Jason helped carry the bread back to the car. Once they were driving back towards the manor Alfred glanced at the car’s clock.

“Goodness, it is well past lunch! Forgive me Master Jason, it completely slipped my mind.”

“It’s fine.”

“Once we return and put everything away I will prepare something for you.”

“Thanks.”

Both parties were content to sit in silence for the rest of the drive. Alfred glanced in his rearview mirror time to time. Jason’s eyes looked heavy, sliding closed every few seconds. The boy was well asleep by the time they pulled through the manor gates and into the garage. Alfred began to gather bags. When he returned to the car from the kitchen, Jason was awake and pulling bags from the car.

“Sorry I fell asleep.” He mumbled, cheeks flushed from his nap. “You coulda woke me up to help with the stuff.”

“No worries young Master. I am more than capable of unpacking the car. You obviously needed the sleep.”

Jason eyed him before nodding and carrying his load inside.

Though Alfred had no problem unloading groceries, he did think it was nice to have a helper again. Master Dick loved helping. He was the most enthusiastic nine-year old when it came to little jobs like that. However, Alfred drew the line at the acrobat walking in on his hands while balancing groceries on the bottoms of his feet. Especially when the eggs teetered too close to his hardwood floors. Jason held the bags tightly, taking care not to jostle them too much. He carefully placed them on the counter before returning for more.

“Please go and wash your hands Master Jason while I unpack the groceries and prepare lunch.” Alfred instructed the boy.

Jason scampered quickly out of the room.

 _The trip went quite well,_ Alfred mused as he put things away. This was the most the boy had spoken to him voluntarily. While he didn’t approve of Master Bruce essentially kidnapping children off the streets, he hoped that maybe having another child around would help Master Bruce and possibly ease the tension between him and his former charge.

After putting everything away, Alfred set to work preparing a sandwich using the peach jelly and peanut butter (extra-crunchy!). He finished the sandwich and placed it on the edge of the counter with a glass of water. Glancing at the clock, he noted Jason had been gone awhile.

“Master Jason?” He called, “Your lunch is ready.”

“Comin’!”

The _shuff shuff_ of socked feet came closer to the kitchen. Jason entered and looked at the plate.

“Is that for me?”

“Yes sir. If you grant me a moment I will cut up some carrots for you.”

Jason pushed himself onto the stool. “You don’t gotta do that. I’m good with just the sandwich.”

“Nonsense. Who knows the last time you had a decent vegetable.”

The kitchen fell quiet, save for the knife chopping carrots and the munching of crunchy peanut butter.

“Mister Alfred?”

Alfred nearly cut his hand. “Yes Master Jason?”

“… Thanks.”

Alfred set the knife down and turned, “Whatever for?”

Jason stared down at his sandwich. “Fer buyin’ all the food an’ getting stuff I like.” He traced the edge of his plate. “Sometimes, when we had coupons, mom would buy stuff like peanut butter an’ hot dogs. Most of the time though we could just get the discount stuff. Mostly canned vegetables and ravioli that was dented or had torn labels.”

Alfred picked up the handful of carrots and deposited them onto the boy’s plate. “You are most welcome. And if you think of any more meals or snacks you like, please let me know.” He placed a hand on top of Jason’s. “As long as you’re here with us, there is no need to worry about food or meals. I am most sorry they were a concern in the past. But, we will do whatever we can to alleviate those worries.”

The butler quickly removed his hand and started to gather the preparations for dinner. Jason didn’t say anything, chewing his sandwich and carrots. Alfred began worrying that he scared the boy and erased all progress they had made that afternoon.

“Hey Mister Alfred, whatcha making?”

 _Hmm, maybe not._ “I thought some mac and cheese was in order young sir.”

“Huh. Well, can I help?”

Alfred turned to see the hopeful look daring to slip onto the boy’s face. It caused a smile to form. “I would welcome help.”

For the first time since he arrived, Jason smiled. “I ain’t ever made anything but the boxed kind before, but Mama says I’m a real fast learner!”

Alfred rolled up his sleeves and tied an apron around his waist. “I’m sure you are young sir.”

0000ooo0000

When Bruce walked in his front door a warm, thick smell greeted him. He dropped his briefcase and overcoat onto a chair by the door. He followed the smell to the kitchen. He nearly tripped when he saw a casserole pan full of macaroni and cheese sitting on the kitchen table.

“Bruce!”

He peeked further into the kitchen to see Jason rushing over with a stack of plates.

“Whoa, careful.” He steadied the boy and he screeched to a stop. “Don’t want to drop those.”

“Are ya hungry? Me an’ Mister Alfred made mac n’ cheese! With hotdogs n’ everything!” The boy quickly set the small kitchen table with the plates.

“It does smell mighty good.” Bruce mused. He couldn’t remember the last time he had eaten mac n’ cheese.

“Ah, Master Bruce. Welcome home.” Alfred swooped in silently, carrying a serving spoon and forks. “Master Jason planned and prepared tonight’s meal.”

Jason was already sat down at the table. “Actually, Alfred got all the stuff, but he let me shred the cheese and cut the hot dogs!”

Bruce chuckled and sat down. “I can’t wait to sample this masterpiece.” He scooped a large serving onto a plate and set it in front of Jason.

Jason picked up his fork and was about to dig in before he saw Alfred at the sink. “Ain’t you gonna join us Mister Alfred?”

“It’s not proper for the help to eat with the family young sir. I will just clean up. Enjoy your meal.”

“But you made it! An’ bought everythin’! You gotta eat too!”

“I will eat later young sir.”

“Leave it Jason,” Bruce said before Jason could continue. “I’ve tried everything.”

Jason scowled at his macaroni. “I ain’t family. So I’ll eat later too.” He shoved his plate away.

Alfred sighed and turned from the sink. “It’s a matter of decorum my boy. Do not be difficult and eat your supper.”

Jason sunk deeper into his seat. “Nope. _You’re_ family. You’re practically Bruce’s dad! I’m justa kid he kidnaped off the streets!”

Bruce groaned, “I didn’t _kidnap_ you.”

“Actually Master Bruce, I believe you did.”

Jason stood up. “Please Mister Alfred?”

Alfred opened his mouth to protest. But he shut it at the boy’s earnest look. He undid his apron and tossed his dishrag in the sink. “Alright, but just _this once._ ”

Bruce attempted to stifle a chuckle.

Alfred sat down with a huff. “Master Bruce, please pass the salt. Master Jason sit down and get yourself a napkin!”

Jason just grinned for the second time that day.

 _I think we’re going to be just fine,_ Alfred thought.


	2. Restless Nights & Warm Toast

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jason experiences a nightmare and an injury, but Alfred is no stranger to dealing with such events.

Alfred sat up with a start. His mustache twitched. _Something was not right._ Mentally, he went through his checklist:

Master Bruce made it home, _check._

Any injuries were checked over and taken care of, _check._

Master Bruce had been fed and put to bed, _check._

He had ensured Master Bruce was _actually_ in bed and hadn’t snuck back downstairs, _check._

Jason had been tucked into bed, _check._

The butler lay back on his pillow with a sigh. He didn’t seem to forget anything. Possibly just a nightmare then. As he lay quietly trying to drift off again, he swore he heard something. Once again he sat up, straining to listen through the thick darkness permeating the manor.

Just as he began to lay down he heard a distant sniffle. Alfred threw back the covers, pulled on his robe and slippers, and crept quietly out of his room. He held his breath and listened. More sniffling and a choked sob.

His sleep-addled mind took a moment to piece it together. _Master Jason._ The lad often tossed and turned late into the night. But this sounded more extreme than usual. Alfred walked with haste, _not running mind you,_ towards the boy’s room at the other end of the hall. Carefully, he turned the doorknob and pushed the door open, peering into the room.

The boy lay curled in a ball at the bottom of the mattress. His pillows were strewn about the floor. The comforter hung half off the bed while the other half wrapped itself around one of his legs. Sweat shone on the back of his neck, illuminated by the hall light. The thick, dark bangs sticking to his forehead only served to illustrate how young Jason looked. Jason weakly swung his arm, fending off a phantom assailant.

Alfred swooped in and sat on the bed, gently laying a hand on the small, damp shoulder. Jason let out a shriek and shoved himself away. The comforter’s weight hindered his escape and he fell to the floor. Unseeing eyes, still trapped in the dream state, gawked at the butler who quickly leapt to his feet.

“Stay back!” Jason slurred, attempting to crawl backwards.

“Master Jason,” Alfred tried to reach out, but this caused the boy’s struggle to escalate.

“I said GET AWAY!” Jason lurched out of the comforter’s hold. _SMACK!_ He slammed his head into the nightstand. Stunned, he clutched his head and whimpered. “M’sorry, sorry, sorry.”

Carefully, Alfred knelt down. Slowly he made his way to the sniffling boy. “There, there.” He cooed softly. He set his fingertips on the small foot, easing up slightly at the flinch. Alfred inched closer gradually, his occasional ‘hushes’ filling the silence save for Jason’s choked sniffles.

Finally, he was close enough to wrap his arms around the boy’s shaking, damp shoulders. The small body tensed, the sniffles ceased. But only for a moment. Then, the sniffles turned into muffled sobs. Lean muscles, small from a lack of care, relaxed into the butler’s receiving arms.

Close contact was the only tactic that could calm down Master Dick as a small child. If the boy had a nightmare, Master Bruce would see a small, shaking figure in his doorway. While initially unsure, he quickly settled in, attempting to fill the young orphan’s needs. Master Dick tended to go to Bruce first, but he wasn’t shy to come to Alfred if Bruce wasn’t available.

It had been a long time since the butler had needed to mumble gentle nonsense into an ear and rock a fragile body in a steady rhythm. Those instincts however, once developed, never truly go away. Alfred wasn’t sure of how long he and Jason sat there on the bedroom floor, but he really needed to check the boy’s head.

“Master Jason?” He tried again.

This time his eyes met much more awake, wet ones.

“I need to look at your head. You collided rather hard with the nightstand. I’m going to set you on the bed, then go collect my first aid kit. Alright?”

Jason nodded. Despite his age, Alfred could easily lift the boy back onto the bed. Jason opened his mouth but quickly snapped it shut. This caused him to wince and try to touch the back of his head. Alfred firmly, yet gently, stopped the motion.

“Careful my boy. We don’t know what’s back there quite yet. Now, please sit still and _don’t touch your head_ while I fetch my kit.”

Alfred rushed out of the room and down the hall to one of the multiple bathrooms on that floor. He began stocking multiple different kits after Dick took it upon himself to christen each floor with an injury. Grabbing a kit and a bottle of sterilizer, Alfred returned. Jason still sat in the same spot on the bed, fingernails tracing the lines on his pajamas.

“Scoot forward a bit young sir,” Alfred instructed, he flipped on the bright overhead lights. “Now, let us have a look.”

Numbly, Jason tilted his heads towards his lap. Alfred gently parted the boy’s hair, carefully moving his finger’s over the scalp working his way to the back of Jason’s head. He touched a point midway back that caused Jason to flinch with a hiss.

“Well now,” the butler prodded lightly, “I do not believe you’ll need stitches. It just appears to be a cut and some rather heavy bruising.” He reached into his kit to pull out some cotton pads. “I’m going to just clean it thoroughly and give you some aspirin for the pain.”

Jason gave a minute nod, not saying anything.

Alfred quickly cleaned the injury and put the kit back together and away. When he returned to the bedroom, Jason had laid back down.

“No, no, we cannot have that just yet young sir.” He ushered the boy to sit back up. “Unfortunately, I want to keep you awake a while longer to ensure you do not have a concussion. How about we head downstairs for a midnight snack?”

Jason sat up with a look of dazed surprise. “Are- are you sure? I don’t wanna keep you up none…”

“I insist. I frightened you. It is my responsibility to make sure you’re alright and well.”

Jason eyed him. “It wasn’t your fault…”

“It would make _me_ feel better young sir.” Alfred stated.

Jason sat silent for a moment. “Alright. Fine.”

000oooo000oooo

Once in the kitchen, Alfred filled his bright red kettle that had ‘Cheerio’ printed on it, a Christmas present curtesy of Master Dick, with water and set it on the stovetop to boil.

“Mrs. Costa always heated her water up in the microwave.” Jason said. “Faster than heatin’ it up inna’ kettle.”

“I’m sure your Mrs. Costa was a lovely woman. But, for a tea to be truly proper, the water _must_ be boiled in a kettle,” Alfred sniffed. “It truly tastes better. No matter what you _Americans_ claim.”

Jason gave a weak giggle.

This was the first instance Alfred could recall the boy laughing at any point during his stay. Or at least around himself.

“Now, I believe I promised you a snack.” He pulled a loaf of bread out from the breadbox. “How about some toast? You will get to sample the bread we bought the other day. The finest bread in Gotham!” He began to slice the bread.

“Can we put the peanut butter we got onnit?”

“If you’re not feeling dizzy, feel free to fetch it from the pantry.”

The _scuff scuff_ of Jason’s slippered feet faded into the pantry. After a moment, they scuffed back and set the jar on the counter beside the toaster.

“Where are tha’ knives?”

“Second door to the left of the fridge.”

_Whoosh, clink, clink,_ and then a knife was deposited by the toaster. Alfred carried his bread slices over to the toaster and dropped them in.

Jason had wandered back to his seat at the kitchen table. Color had returned to his cheeks and his eyes didn’t look as cloudy. Though, it paid to be cautious.

Alfred came and sat down at the table across from Jason. “May I-” He cleared his throat, “May I ask what you were dreaming about?”

Jason looked down, watching his slippers bounce on the rung of the chair. “Just nightmares an stuff.” He mumbled. “It’s nothin’ really.” He glanced up, “Sorry if I hit ya or somethin’”.

“I’m fine young master.” Alfred gave a small smile, “I’m afraid you are the only one who’s suffered injury tonight.”

Jason looked up at the ceiling, “I didn’t wake Bruce up?”

“Master Bruce took a sedative, so he is out like a light tonight.” Alfred replied.

Jason gave him a wry, disbelieving look.

“Perhaps _I slipped_ a sedative to him. Either way, he’s sleeping. God knows he doesn’t do enough of that.” Alfred grumbled, causing Jason to giggle again. “You have not been sleeping much either young sir. No, don’t try to protest. I know these things.”

Jason’s slippers began kicking the chair again. “Am I wakin’ you up?”

“No, I just know.” Alfred disclosed. “Master Bruce isn’t the only one in this house with special training you know.”

Jason eyes narrowed. “What do you me-”

_SCREEECH!!!_ Went the kettle.

Alfred stood and walked to pull it off the stove. “Would you care to try a cup of tea?”

“Sure.”

_POP!_ The toast was done.

“Could you please pull the toast out Master Jason?” Alfred requested. “I will collect the mugs and a tea selection.”

Jason grabbed two plates from the dishrack and set them by the toaster. He carefully pulled the slices from the appliance and set one on each plate. “Do ya want anythin’ besides peanut butter?” He asked Alfred.

“That will be sufficient thank you.”

Less than a minute later, Alfred set two mugs of hot water on the table, along with several boxes of tea bags.

“My current favorite is the sweet mint.” Alfred pulled a bag from the box and dropped it into his mug. “Sharp flavor, but soothing at the same time.”

Jason eyed the boxes. “I’ll try the ginger.”

“Excellent. That one is rather strong however, allow it to steep for three minutes then remove the bag to taste. If you want it stronger you can allow it to sit longer after that.”

Alfred fetched some sugar and a small carton of cream. “Add these to taste. I draw the line at two spoons of sugar this late however.”

Jason added a spoon of sugar and a dash of cream to his mug before taking a sip. Alfred watched. Jason looked at the mug in disbelief. “This, this is good!”

“Well,” Alfred puffed up, “Finally someone who can appreciate it besides myself.”

“It’s a lot better than Mrs. Costa’s.”

So together they sat, sipping their tea and munching on their peanut-butter toast. Alfred’s eyes slipped closed, allowing him to relish the moment. The silence bathing the kitchen and the rest of the manor wasn’t the usual tense and awkward, but instead warm and comforting. The grandfather clock in the adjourning dining room chimed four a.m.

“Mister Alfred?”

Alfred opened his eyes. “Yes?”

“Thanks a lot.”

“My pleasure young sir. My pleasure.”


	3. Answers

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jason's insecurities lead to a confrontation for answers. We're all reminded that even Alfred is a flawed human being who makes mistakes. But when flaws and insecurities collide, solutions and resolutions are made to promise a stronger future.

Alfred’s eyes refused to focus on the recipe in front of him. Though he maintained a façade of unbothered, unshakeable perfection, internally he struggled to match the image he projected. Unlike Master Bruce, he was unable to shove away all emotion in order to function. Generally, he expressed it through an outlet, such as caring for the residents of the manor. But with Master Richard’s departure and Master Bruce’s increased brooding, his released decreased substantially.

Then, Jason arrived. The butler wanted nothing more than to wrap the boy in blankets and feed him until he burst. Unlike Dick, the boy was prickly and untrusting. He kept his walls high and fiercely stuffed the cracks to prevent anything from sneaking in or to keep himself from slipping out.

For whatever reasons, he was especially tense and guarded against Alfred. Though Alfred attempted to be warm yet not overbearing, open but not overwhelming, Jason’s walls stood strong.

He believed their relationship status had improved with the grocery shopping trip, but the nightmare incident sent any progress spiraling into the Gotham River. The next morning at breakfast, Jason wouldn’t initiate conversation and any of Alfred’s attempts were met with short, curt responses. So Alfred fell back into his usual routine of being the butler and nothing more.

Alfred himself felt at a loss. Frankly, he considered himself a likeable enough person. He never felt awkward or unsure with children, even traumatized ones. His time in her Majesty’s service and raising Master Bruce more than prepared him. Yet all tactics and approaches seemed to fail when applied to Jason.

The boy didn’t like him. He didn’t trust him. And it hurt. But unfortunately, it wasn’t very effective to order someone, especially children, to like you.

This was rather troubling as Master Bruce was busy trying to secure Jason’s adoption.

Finally, Alfred gave up and slammed the cook book closed. He couldn’t focus. He’d come back to it later. For now he could start cleaning the-

“Mister Alfred?” A hushed voice interrupted his thoughts.

Alfred looked up to see Jason hunched in the doorway.

“What can I do for you young sir?” He questioned.

Jason’s gaze remained on his socks, his left hand tugged gently on his sweatshirt sleeve.

“I was, I just… I-” His voice faded off. Red-rimmed, glossy eyes roamed the kitchen, deliberately avoiding eye contact with the butler.

Alfred quietly sighed. Of course the boy didn’t want to speak to him about the issue. “Master Jason,” He broke the silence, getting the boy’s gaze to shift in his general direction, “If you’d rather, I can call Master Bruce so you can-”

“NO!” Jason snapped, fists clenched. “You don’t gotta bother ‘im.”

Alfred became even more befuddled. “Are you feeling well?” He stepped forward, hand outstretched and ready to feel Jason’s forehead for a fever.

This caused Jason to flinch back so violently, he nearly lost his balance.

He backed out of the kitchen doorway, shoulders angled.

Alfred’s hand slowly lowered to his side, “Master Jason whatever is the matter?”

“ALL OF THIS!” Jason took a raspy breath and glared at the butler. “M’not a ‘master’ anything! I’m just, just trash that Bruce took home from Crime Alley! Can’t be trusted not ta steal yer silverware or anythin’ shiny I can get my hands on.”

With shaking shoulders and glossy eyes, Jason steeled himself to weakly glare Alfred in the eye. “I ain’t gonna be one of yer posh kids, no matter what you try.”

“Master Jason I don’t-”

“Bruce is gonna send me back.” The sentence was choked out quieter and with less rage than the previous words. Jason’s walls cracked enough that the little boy leaked out just a little.

Alfred stood stock still at loss for words. _Come on, say something! Anything! Oh dash it!_ The butler stepped forward and crouched before Jason, ignoring the flinch.

“May I hug you?”

“Huh?”

“I would like to give you a hug.”

A barely noticeable nod caused Alfred to wrap his arms around Jason and hold him close. Closer than the night of the nightmare, close like he held young Bruce on that terrible night.

His wrinkled hand cupped the back of the boy’s head, clasping it close to the front of his dress shirt and gently petting dark hair.

Walls crumbled, allowing tears and sobs to spill out in a flash flood.

Alfred clung tighter to the small body. He guarded it against the cold and evil world with his own. He willed the devil himself to pry Jason from his arms.

Just for a moment _he_ became Jason’s wall.

Just for a moment he could guard the child from the world’s assaults.

Just for a moment, everything was okay.

0000ooo0000

When Jason calmed down and tried to pull away, Alfred released him only enough to be able to look him in the eye.

“Jason,” he began, “I’m not sure where this is coming from. But, I want to assure you that Master Bruce is not going to ‘send you back’.” Softly, his thumb wiped away a trailing tear. “In fact, he’s been busy meeting with lawyers to formulate adoption papers.” _Deep breath._ “So if you desired to stay,” _forever,_ “you could.”

Jason froze, eyes gleaming in disbelief.

“Now, we’re going to sit in the kitchen with a cup of tea. And when you’re ready, I would like to hear the cause of these fears you have. That way we can begin on alleviating them.” Alfred rose to his feet.

Preparing tea was a mindless task for him. After he situated Jason in a chair, he set the kettle on the stove. He placed the sugar dish and a cream carton on the small kitchen table, then pulled two mugs from the cupboard. Looking through the pantry, he pulled out his box of Sweet Mint and a box of Ginger for Jason.

After the mugs had tea bags and hot water, the butler sat down next to Jason. The boy added his spoon of sugar and dash of cream.

The spoon _clinked_ as he stirred in small motions.

They sat quietly, sipping their tea.

“Ma-… _Jason._ ” Alfred spoke. “If _I_ have done anything to cause these feelings I apologize. If I have done anything to make you feel unwelcome or as if you don’t have a place here it was not my intention.” He took a sip of tea to gather his thoughts.

“I just…” Jason tried to speak. “It’s just…” Small fingers began fiddling with the handle of the mug. “What use do you have fer a kid that’s never done _real_ grocery shoppin’ or that wakes you up at night?” He used his wet sweatshirt sleeve to rub his eyes. “I just don’t get it! Bruce is weird, but yer _impossible_!”

Alfred’s grip on his mug tightened. _It was something I’ve done after all._

Jason sniffled, “One moment yer a fancy Brit, being all orderly an’ proper. Then you get all weird and mushy. But then you turn all butler-y again.” He shoved his mug away, causing some of the contents to slosh onto the table. “What’s yer game?!” The boy demanded, as his eyes glossed over again. “Didja finally talk Bruce into takin’ me back?”

Alfred sighed. Not at the boy or his accusations, but at himself. After witnessing the hurt and anguish caused between Dick and the family by Bruce’s own miscommunications, the butler swore he would never allow it to happen to him.

When in doubt, he slipped back into proper decorum. He did it when Bruce came into his care, _see how well that turned out?_

He did it when Bruce took Dick into his care, confident that his charge was ready and competent to raise the young boy. _He hadn’t seen the young lad in weeks._

And here, now, he’s driven Jason to tears. Illuminating all the child’s worst fears with his inconsistency.

Alfred outstretched a hand over the table. _An invitation._ Jason stared at it for a moment. Then, he cautiously placed his own in the butler’s.

“As you’ve probably observed,” Alfred started, “communication in this household is not a strong suit. Especially communicating emotions of any kind.” A frustrated smile stretched his face. “I will take the blame for a majority of it.” Gripping the boy’s hand tighter he continued, “I am one to avoid conflict. I prefer to slip into the background and allow it to pass over. And my not intervening is the source of our many current issues now.”

He released Jason’s hand and stood to retrieve a towel to wipe up the spilled tea. “There is no grand scheme young sir. Just a passive old man who plays the servant instead of a family member.”

He stopped cleaning to meet Jason’s eye. “And for that I’m sorry and I ask for your forgiveness.”

Tears once again streaked down Jason’s face. His breathing hitched. For a moment, Alfred feared he made it worse.

“I forgive you.”

With that, Jason inched towards the older man, arms lifting a little before drawing back down. Alfred took the silent invitation and drew the boy into a hug.

“Thank you young sir. _Thank you._ ”

They hugged for almost a minute before Jason loosened his hold and began to pull away. Reluctantly, Alfred let go.

He handed Jason a handkerchief to his wipe face. Then, he began to clean up their tea things.

“Hey Mister Alfred?”

“Yes young sir?”

“Could you,” Jason swallowed, “I know it ain’t proper but, could you not call me ‘Master Jason’ anymore?” He practically speed talked the last part. “I _really, really_ don’t like it.”

“As you wish… is there something you prefer?”

Astounded, Bruce had told him that Alfred _never_ let up on the title business, Jason thought for a moment. “Jason’s fine. Or,” he offered hesitantly, “My mom sometimes called me ‘Jay’.”

“Hmmm, alright then, _Jason._ But only if you’ll return the favor and refer to me as Alfred. Then we’re on equal footing.” Alfred smiled.

Jason returned the smile with a grin of his own. “Sounds good to me!”

0000ooo0000

That evening at dinner, they all gathered around the kitchen table as it made Jason more comfortable. It also became a regular occurrence for Alfred to join. _Though he insisted it was easier than allowing the food to grow cold because of Jason’s ‘hunger strikes’._

They ate in silence, before a sideways glare from Alfred caused Bruce to clear his throat to speak.

“ _Ahem,_ Jason I have some news. Good news.” He clarified quickly. “I’m sorry for not being around a lot lately. But, I have adoption papers prepared. If you want…”

“If I wanted to stay?” Jason asked.

“Exactly. I know it’s early, but I, _we,_ ” Bruce glanced at Alfred, “enjoy having you around. You have plenty of time to think about it. There is no hurry or pressure. We can easily discuss other options as well.”

Jason nodded. “Thanks, Bruce. I wanna think about it for now though.”

“Of course Jason, as Master Bruce stated, there is no hurry!” Alfred butted in before Bruce’s mouth ruined anything. “Now, anyone for dessert?” He stood and went to the pantry to check for the brownies he had made earlier.

He could hear Jason snickering.

“Yer face Bruce!”

“How did you manage it? He called you just Jason!” Bruce hissed. “I’m always ‘Master Bruce’,” _Now that imitation of his accent was just over exaggerate,_ “unless I’m in trouble!”

“Dunno, guess we just click or somethin’.”

_Any fears Alfred had towards his and Jason’s relationship were calmed for the moment. He too has a feeling they click._

_In fact, he believes they’ll ‘click’ very well indeed._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This wasn't supposed to take almost a month. I've been sorting out school stuff and working a lot. Then I deleted the two pages of content I had to rewrite a better course of events. I wrote about half and then didn't come back to it for a week, leading to me forgetting what my brilliant plan was... 
> 
> Oh well! It's here now. Additions may be this slow because school starts up again in two days.


	4. A Contemplation of Children

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alfred's reflection at his second chance at parenting.

“G’night Alfred…”

Alfred smoothed out the blanket, tucking it snugly around the small body occupying the bed. The small figure nestled in tighter.

Alfred stood, then patted the boy’s hair. “Good night Jason, sleep well.”

Quietly, he slipped across the room and out into the hallway. The door _clicked_ softly closed. Alfred listened for a moment. Confident the boy was fine, he made his way down the hall and stopped to listen at Bruce’s door. Heavy snores and breathing were all that drifted through the door.

To ensure that the man was truly asleep, the butler slowly opened the door and peered inside. Tangled in the blankets lay Master Bruce. Truly a rare sight to see the man in such a deep sleep. Satisfied that his charges were set for the night, the butler went downstairs to the kitchen. As per usual, everything was in perfect order. Dishes were washed, leftovers put away, and the counters were sparkling clean.

Silently, he began his final silent patrol. Feet glided over the wood floors with the lightness of a waltz. Greyed blue eyes carefully scanned briefly over each room, checking for any lurking ghouls or intruders. Finding none, they moved on.

The final room for inspection was Master Bruce’s study. Alfred clicked on a desk lamp. He inspected the clock, making sure it was sealed tight. Just as he was about to turn off the lamp, his eye drifted to the portrait above the fireplace.

The late Mr. and Mrs. Wayne regally surveyed the room. Martha sat with Thomas’s hand resting fondly on her shoulder. Both were dressed in elegant, simple clothes. Both wore small but sparkling smiles. Alfred remembered them fretting over what to wear for weeks. Posing them took a long time too. The hired artist moved the couple around for almost an hour before they finally agreed on a position. Only a week after the picture was done, Martha discovered she was pregnant.

Alfred smiled. She and Thomas were overjoyed. Every detail for the nursery was planned to the ‘T’. Alfred himself helped design the room. Though he maintained his composed demeanor throughout the nine months, internally he was just as excited. The small household was truly blessed by the arrival of the young Master Bruce.

Despite being busy socialites, Martha and Thomas were very involved parents. Instead of spoiling Bruce with toys and gifts like other parents, they indulged him with their constant presence. Martha did as much work as she could from home. After returning from work, Thomas would listen to Bruce talk about his day before reading him a story or starting a game of checkers.

Truly, the Waynes were the best parents.

But Alfred remembered the phone call that changed everything.

He had been in London visiting family when he was told there was a call from overseas.

Mr. and Mrs. Wayne had been shot.

After the shock, his thoughts leapt to the young Bruce, _was he alive?_

The relief he felt at the boy’s wellness was short-lived. _Bruce was now in his care._

One afternoon while he and Thomas were watching Bruce swing in the yard his employer turned to him, face drawn into a focused, serious expression.

“Alfred,” he stated. The businessman glanced at Bruce laughing gleefully, “I have a serious favor to ask of you.”

“Of course sir,”

“No, wait a moment please. I want you to understand that if you don’t accept it will not affect your employment in any way. You’re more than just an employee Alfred, _you’re family._ Martha and I have been talking and well…” Thomas sighed, “If, if something happened to both Martha and I, would you be willing… be willing to be Bruce’s guardian?”

The question shocked Alfred into silence. The honor of the offer was incredible.

“I would be… most honored sir.” He replied.

Thomas clasped his hand in a firm shake. Both men ignored his shiny eyes.

_Neither party was expecting the events that followed barely two years later._

As soon as Alfred stepped off the train, he rushed into the main station where Sg. Gordon waited with Bruce. The little boy looked so pale and so small sitting on the bench. His eyes remained focused on his lap.

He sat in a ghostly silence while the sergeant relied the tragic events to the butler. After shaking the policeman’s hand, Alfred’s attention shifted to little Bruce. He kneeled in front of the boy. Bruce finally looked up, eyes wet.

“I’m all alone now Mr. Pennyworth.” He choked out and began to shake.

Alfred quickly swooped the child into a tight hug, using his coat to block out the station and the rest of the world. “Never my boy. I’m here now, _I’m here._ ”

Raising Bruce had been… difficult to say the least. Gone was the cheerful, playful little boy, instead a cold shadow held his place. Of course Alfred hadn’t expected smooth sailing. The child watched his parents be murdered in cold blood for God’s sake! But he had expected healing to take place at some point. Bruce wouldn’t return to counselling after three months. Alfred offered to look for another, but the boy refused.

Alfred relented, supposing Bruce just needed space and time to process at his own pace. Except it never truly happened. The cold shadow roamed the manor, barely eating unless practically dragged to the table. It sat silent in the back of the car on the way to and from school. It stayed upstairs, obsessing over crime rates whenever it could. Slowly, Alfred let all of the other hired help go until it was just himself that remained in the house with the shadow.

The manor became cold.

Looking back, Alfred wished to go back and fix his past self’s mistakes.

Have young Bruce go to counselling and learn to work through and accept his emotions and grief.

Perhaps have encouraged alternate career paths to taking over the family company.

Put his foot down when Bruce was leaving to train.

_Be a true father and not a butler._

0000ooo0000

He truly thought things would improve when Bruce brought Dick home. For the first time in years, Bruce seemed interested in something other than his self-imposed mission. The shadow didn’t loom around the acrobat. It transformed into a living, breathing, _laughing_ human being. One Alfred hadn’t witnessed in years.

In response, the butler took to the background. Of course he adored the boy, but he wanted to stay out of the way of any healing that might be taking place. The new young master seemed to seek Bruce out more anyway.

Though, Dick did seem to enjoy Alfred’s company as well. They used to bake together in the kitchen when the boy’s attention span was focused enough. Dick didn’t believe in measurements and was fascinated by the mixer. Alfred recalled turning his back for just a moment, but that was all that Dick needed to add _too much_ flour and turn the mixer on. _Full speed._

Covered head to toe in flour, the boy began to cough heavily, a white puff leaving his mouth with each exhale. Alfred tried but couldn’t be stern and they both burst into laughter. A broom and bath later, there were plenty of snickerdoodles for everyone.

Alfred wasn’t thrilled when Dick donned the Robin mantle. But, it did seem safer than the boy sneaking out on his own. Bruce took the acrobat’s training seriously. Perhaps more than his own. _Which really was something._ Once again, Alfred kept his mouth shut and faded into the shadows.

Of course Bruce’s emotional spectrum still wasn’t that of a _usual_ person’s. While to a point he reciprocated Dick’s enthusiastic affections, it wasn’t enough. After a time, it began to take its toll on the boy. Especially as he grew and developed.

Alfred suspected he needed more closure for his parents’ murder than donning a cape and running rooftops in the dead of night.

Both he and Bruce rejected the idea of counseling. Bruce argued that their nightly activities might slip out, while Dick just stated he was ‘fine’.

Of course, past Alfred quit suggesting the idea, absolving himself by continuously repeating that it really wasn’t his place. Things settled for a while.

But eventually Bruce’s joy faded again. The shadow once again loomed around the house, enveloping the manor. The darkness extinguished the acrobat. Another sullen and cross shadow begun haunting the halls.

Alfred gently pushed Bruce into making up with Dick. But the stubborn man refused. The butler tried to explain the master to Richard, but the young man just accused Alfred of; ‘taking the old man’s side’.

Then one evening after a patrol, it all went sideways. The comms stayed silent for the second half of the night. The steady blinking of the trackers assured the butler his charges were alright. A little after two a.m. the Batmobile screeched into the cave.

 _Whoosh,_ the top opened and Richard flung himself out, feet hitting the ground hard enough to echo throughout the cave. He stomped to the shower area. Batman also jumped out with a heavy _THUD!_ He thundered after the younger hero, he placed a gloved hand on the boy’s shoulder and whirled him around.

Alfred could only stare in shock as he witnessed Batman tear into Robin. Fights broke out more often between the two lately, but never this measure.

He watched Robin tear away from Batman, yelling terrible things of his own.

He could only watch as Robin tore off his mask.

He could only watch as Batman punched a wall just to Robin’s left.

He could only watch as Robin stormed upstairs and shed pieces of his costume off

He could only watch as Batman stood at the base of the stairs and screamed threats.

He only watched as _Dick_ left the manor, not planning to return.

0000ooo0000

It took several months, three weeks, two days, and an entire month of cold, undercooked meals for Bruce to finally reach out to his ward. Of course the previously existing trust and bond were shattered. But the pieces were all present. It was just going to take _a lot_ of work.

Alfred blinked back into the present. He smiled sorrowfully at the smiling faces of his late employers, his friends, _his family._

_I’m so sorry. I swore to love and protect him. To ensure he’d grow up to be as if you yourselves raised him. I’m sorry I failed him._

_I’m sorry for my inexperience, for not putting my foot down._

_I’m sorry he’s forgotten you, forgotten your smiles, hugs, and love._

_I’m sorry I allow him to risk his life on the daily, that he does it in your name._

_Please forgive me._

Alfred closed and locked the study. He trudged up the stairs. Stopping to stare at himself in the stairway mirror, he noted wrinkles and grey hairs that he’d never noticed. His eyes looked more sunken than he remembered. He resumed walking, treading lightly.

Light whimpers made him pause and turn back to Jason’s door. Turning the knob and pushing the door in, he listened. Soft, half-asleep sobs drifted from under the heavy comforter.

Alfred immediately walked in and sat on the bed. “Jason,” he called firmly, yet softly, “Jason wake up.”

After the first incident, Alfred learned it was better to wake the boy with words before touching him.

Jason shot up, gleaming with sweat and panting heavily. His eyes wildly scanned the room before stopping on the butler. They squinted through the sleep, trying to recognize the figure. When his brain caught up, his face crumpled.

“Alfred…” he croaked.

That was all the older man needed to wrap the child in a hug. Humming nonsense, he stroked the damp, dark hair.

In the back of his mind he recalled doing the same for young master Bruce for weeks after the murder. He’d hold and _hush_ him, rock him gently until his heart rate went down enough to drift into sleep.

Then one night, the bedroom door had been locked. And the night after. And after that. Soon Alfred quit checking. He never said anything, even when Master Bruce came to breakfast with dark circles and flushed cheeks.

He buried his face on the top of Jason’s head, mustache scratching the hair ever so lightly.

_I’m sorry for everything I didn’t do._

_But this time, I swear I’ll get it right._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A couple of things,   
> First: Alfred isn't ashamed of Bruce. He's more ashamed of himself as he believes he didn't help Bruce become the best version of himself. Just wanted to make it clear that Alfred loves Bruce so very very much.
> 
> Second: I take pieces from various DC timelines, canons, media etc. I grew up on all the animated shows and movies. I know the major ideas and summaries of the comic story lines but haven't read many of the actual comics. Any places to start are appreciated! But this "earth" is me tacky gluing together all my favorite DC pieces and adding some of my own!


	5. Movie Night

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A new tradition started by Alfred and Jason. A pure fluff chapter.

Alfred loved the smell of popcorn. He would ensure that Wayne Industries invested in any candle company that could accurately capture the scent. But for now, he settled with just making the treat and enjoying the process.

Speaking of enjoying the process, Jason slid into the kitchen after the first couple of _POPS!_

“One of these days you’re going to slid into a counter…” Alfred muttered, knowing full well his cautions would go unheeded.

“What’s the popcorn for?” Jason demanded, ignoring the statment and leaning around Alfred to peer at the stovetop popper. 

“Please don’t lean, you’re going to burn yourself. Master Bruce is… _out._ ” Alfred groused. “So I-”

Jason’s face fell. “ _Again?_ He said since he didn’t have any meetings he’d stay in tonight and do somethin’ with me!” He stepped away from the stove and scowled at his socks.

“Yes. And he snuck out before I caught him. He’s getting better… Back to the point.” The popcorn kernels quieted down so Alfred transferred them into a large plastic bowl. “Since he would rather be out in this ghastly weather than here, I thought we could enjoy staying warm and dry by watching a movie.”

Alfred turned to fetch the butter and salt. He returned just in time to lightly tap Jason’s hand from the bowl.

“HEY!”

“You can wait a few minutes. Go and pick something out in the den while I finish preparing the popcorn.”

“It’s popcorn! All you gotta do is pop it and put salt on in!”

“You’ve never had _my_ popcorn Jason.” Alfred replied, gesturing to the doorway. “Now go along!”

Jason slid back out of the kitchen. A _thud_ indicating he’d hit the hallway.

“For the love of Saint Mary _stop sliding!_ ”

The butler huffed and went back to the popcorn. Like practically everything else he did, preparing popcorn was an art form.

Alfred fondly recalled a younger Master Dick telling him that even Gordon Ramsey couldn’t make popcorn as good.

Soon enough it was ready. Alfred scooped up the large bowl and some smaller ones, then carried them down the hallway to the den. The television had not been turned on yet. Jason sat on the floor in front of it, looking through the cabinet at the rows and rows of movies.

“If there is nothing there that catches your eye we can also rent a movie off the internet.” Alfred informed the boy, setting the bowl on the coffee table in front of the couch.

Jason turned to look at him, brows furrowed, “You mean like Youtube or Netflix? I thought that was fer computers.”

“The television is capable of hooking up to the internet as well.”

“Huh. Whaddya know.” Then the boy resumed shuffling through the movies.

Alfred returned to the kitchen to fetch two glasses of lemonade. When he returned, Jason was still sitting on the floor in front of the television. But he had a small stack of movies behind him.

“Did you find one?” Alfred set the glasses on the table.

Jason eyed the lemonade. “Well, what do you wanna watch?”

“My taste are that of a wide variety. Whatever you would like.” Alfred eyes narrowed, “provided it’s age appropriate of course.”

Jason snorted. “I grew up in Crime Alley! I doubt Hollywood could come up with anythin’ I ain’t seen.”

“No.”

“Fine.” Jason pushed several of Master Dick’s horror movies to the side. Reaching for his stack, he set it on the table. Carefully, he fanned out the movies. “I ain’t seen too many of these. So any of ‘em are good with me.”

Alfred leaned forward to view his options. Disney classics such as ‘Snow White’ and ‘Robin Hood’ were near the top, along with ‘Escape to Witch Mountain’. ‘E.T.’, and several other classics graced the table top.

“Have you ever seen ‘Escape to Witch Mountain’?”

“Nah, but my mom talked about it sometimes.”

“It’s very good, just excuse the 70’s special effects.” Alfred took the dvd and turned on the TV.

Jason slowly settled onto the couch. Alfred handed him a bowl of popcorn before sitting in an armchair just to the side of the couch. The movie started and their attention shifted.

Alfred enjoyed movies. Being an old theater buff, he appreciated the art of acting and putting on a show. Though, he would argue that the stage was the most refined environment for acting. It required nothing less than total perfection and preparation. Mistakes and mishaps could not be re-shot. Each actor and actress needed to be poised and prepared, ready for anything. They needed to shift the audience’s setting from the theater to wherever the story called for.

Alfred snapped back into the present. The Malone children had just began their escape from Bolt’s mansion. He glanced slightly at Jason to see the boy’s rapt attention on the film. His popcorn dish was empty beside him. He sat curled against the far arm of the couch, his head resting on the arm.

As the final credits rolled, Alfred noticed Jason had fallen asleep. He turned off the television and took the popcorn bowls into the kitchen. He returned to the den and picked up a fallen couch pillow.

Gently, he lifted Jason’s head and placed the pillow beneath it. He didn’t want to risk frightening the boy by trying to carry him upstairs. Lightly, he laid a blanket over the boy. Content, he switched off the lights, leaving a small table lamp as a reserved light source.

With one final glance, he too went to bed.

0000ooo0000

The next time he and Jason had a movie night; Jason had had a nightmare.

Too shaken to fall back asleep, the lad sat twisting the bed covers. So Alfred offered a movie.

Armed with fluffy blankets and cups of steaming tea, they made their way into the den. This time Jason offered the choice to Alfred.

Alfred thumbed through the movies for several minutes before settling on one of his favorites.

“Are you opposed to musical films?” He asked Jason.

Jason yawned, “I don’t think I’ve ever seen any musicals.” He adjusted his blanket nest. “Unless you count the ‘Wizard of Oz’.”

Alfred smiled, “How about ‘Mary Poppins’?”

Jason just grunted in reply.

“I had the pleasure of briefly meeting Miss Andrews once. We were both attending an actor’s club party in London.” Alfred settled into his armchair. “Positively wonderful woman! Very talented too.”

Another grunt emitted from the blanket nest.

Alfred adjusted his own blanket. From the inside of his night-robe, he pulled out his spectacles. Soon Dick Van Dyke’s terrible accent began singing the opening song, announcing the arrival of Mary Poppins.

“Is that what people in England sound like?”

Alfred turned to see Jason shuffling his nest to the end of the couch closest to his chair. He rolled his eyes.

“Mr. Van Dyke, as talented as he is, is doing a very poor job of performing in a Cockney accent! However, it is a real dialect from London’s East End.” He grimaced.

“Huh.” Jason lay his head on the arm of the couch. “Even if he’s botchin’ it, it sounds neat.”

“You will have to meet my friend Charlie. She’s from the East End. Very lively girl and enjoyable to talk to.”

They eased into a comfortable silence, watching Mr. Banks write his advertisement for a nanny. Jason giggled when the line of answering nannies all blew away. Alfred watched his face light up when Mary herself flew down and took charge.

At some point during the film, Alfred had reached over and begun stroking Jason’s hair. The boy didn’t react other than stretching his head further over the arm. He hummed and closed his eyes.

The butler allowed his own to slip closed.

The end chorus of ‘Let’s Go Fly a Kite’ caused him to stir. Glancing at the clock told him it was almost four in the morning.

He glanced over at Jason. The boy’s head had slid off the couch arm, he was now curled up against the couch cushions.

There was at least another two hours before it was time to rise for the day, so Alfred decided to return to his own bed to avoid getting a stiff neck. He rose from the chair and stretched. Jason moaned and tried to roll over. But, he instead got tangled in his blanket nest.

As the boy thrashed his arms to escape, he edged closer to the edge of the couch. Alfred managed to prevent him from rolling off.

“Thanfs Alf…” Jason drawled, sitting up and rubbing his eyes. “I ‘most fell.”

“Indeed. Would you like to return to bed?” Alfred held back a chuckle.

Jason teetered. He blinked sleepily at the butler. “Yessss?”

Alfred smiled. “Come along then.”

It took some maneuvering to get Jason standing. But, soon enough he was awake enough to walk.

They made it upstairs and said their goodnights. Just before Alfred entered his room, he heard a soft “Alfred” from the hall. He turned to Jason, who was leaning sleepily against his doorway.

“Yes lad?”

“Are you Mary Poppins?”

It looks like that they may not get those extra two hours after all…

0000ooo0000

The third movie night was the first Jason requested on his own.

Alfred huffed as he parked the car. He laid his head on the headrest and allowed his eyes to slip closed. It had been an absolutely rotten day. The weather was the usual Gotham gloom, Master Bruce had caught a cold so he was grouchier than usual, and the traffic into the main city had been a nightmare. Unable to convince the other man to stay home, Alfred insisted on driving him into town. Bruce left with a _slam_ of the car door. He snapped that he would take one of the ‘cars he left at the office’ ( _the Batmobile_ ) home.

Between the weather, Bruce’s mood, and Jason’s frequent nightmares, Alfred was exhausted. Master Bruce was trying to help with Jason at night. But, often he was out patrolling. Besides, Jason seemed to prefer the butler’s comfort.

Steeling himself, Alfred stepped into the garage. There was still so much to do. Dusting, organizing, and preparing munch awaited him inside. Jason was left to his own devices for breakfast that morning. Hopefully the kitchen wasn’t in shambles.

“Jason?” Alfred called. He glanced around the kitchen. Spotless, save for a stool propped by the counter. He replaced the stool. “Jason?” Alfred tried again, wandering out into the hall. “Where are you? Did you get breakfast?”

A punctuated _squeak-squeak-squeak_ caused him to pause. Listening close, he waited. There it was again! Following the occasional _squeak_ and shuffling noise brought him to the library. His heart nearly leapt into his throat when he saw Jason pulling himself allow the bookshelves on the wheeled ladder.

“MASTER JASON!” He exclaimed, falling into old habits. “Get down from there immediately!”

Jason jumped slightly, at the butler’s voice. He grabbed the edges of the ladder and slid down. Sheepishly, he turned and grinned. “H-hey Alf. Yer back!”

“What were you doing up there?”

Jason’s hands moved to the front of his body, revealing one of Alfred’s feather dusters. “I was just tryin’ to help! Honest!” He clarified. “You just looked really tired an’ you’ve been helpin’ me so much that I thought I’d try to help you out a little.” He looked down at his socks.

Alfred had plenty of experience of little boys wanting to ‘help’. Master Bruce as a toddler loved to run off with the towels and dishrags. Dick volunteered to ‘clean’ the chandeliers and the very top of shelves.

He glanced at the books near the very top. They did look a lot better. He’d been meaning to dust them for a while now. It wasn’t that he didn’t appreciate the boy’s effort, it just made him nervous to see him standing so high on that rickety ladder.

“Well, I must say you’ve done a marvelous job. Thank you Jason.”

Jason looked up in surprise. Clearly, he was expecting a scolding. Straightening up he replied, “I also got the kitchen all clean. I was gonna dust the den and living room after finishin’ in here.” His brow tightened. “I’m being real careful, I promise. I use to help mom with the cleanin’… when she wasn’t feelin’ up to it…” The boy’s voice trailed off.

Alfred sighed softly. “I would welcome your help today. I’m afraid my age is catching up to me, I’m feeling awfully tired.”

Jason shook his head, “It’s because you gotta stay up with me! I’m really sorry,” his gaze shifted back to his socks. His small fingers tightened around the handle of the duster.

“Well,” Alfred began, “I can’t say I’m not used to late nights. But, staying up with two people is much different.” He reached out to place a hand on Jason’s shoulder, causing the boy to look up. “I’m pleased to do so as long as you need me. I’ve enjoyed our movie times.”

Jason’s eyes narrowed. “You sure?” He questioned in a flat tone.

“Positive.” Alfred glanced about the library. “How about we finish cleaning?”

“Okay.”

“But absolutely no more ladders!”

By that evening, they were ahead of Alfred’s chore list for the week. Jason took his tasks with the utmost seriousness. Alfred’s mood lightened considerably. Despite this however, he still wanted to go to bed as soon as possible.

All he had left to do was put some towels in the washing machine. Walking to the kitchen he remembered; he still needed to prepare something for dinner. He also wondered where Jason had gone. The last he’d seen of the boy was sending him upstairs to put fresh sheets on his bed. Oh well. He’d show up once he smelled food.

_Speaking of food… something smelled nice._

He entered the kitchen to see Jason kneeling on a stool, stirring a pot on the stove. The boy gave a small, yet slightly tight smile when he noticed the butler.

“Hey Alfred! I started dinner!” He exclaimed.

Alfred, slightly dumbfounded took a moment to reply, “I… I can see that.” He peered over, “What are you preparing?”

“Tomato soup.” Jason replied. He kept stirring in steady motions. “Nothin’ special, but I saw the Campbell cans when I was putting stuff away in the pantry.” His stirring shifted to the other direction. “Campbell’s is the best.” He stated in a matter-of-fact manner.

“Yes,” Alfred hummed, “I do agree. I have yet to find a homemade recipe that is comparable.”

“Hope it’s okay I started. You just look tired.” Jason said carefully.

“No. This is very kind of you. Thank you Jason.” Alfred reached up to gently ruffle the thickening black hair.

“Could we eat in the den? And…” the boy hesitated. He busied himself with turning off the burner and placing the spoon on the spoon rest. “And maybe watch a movie?”

Though he generally discouraged eating meals anywhere but in the kitchen or dining room, tonight, that sounded perfect to the British man. “That sounds wonderful. You go pick one out and I’ll dish up the soup.” Before Jason could protest, Alfred raised a hand. “Don’t worry about it. You made dinner, I can dish it up. Now, get along!”

Alfred entered the den to see the intro of Chitty-Chitty Bang-Bang starting up.

Jason turned from his spot on the couch. “Thought we’d stick with the Dick Van Dyke theme.”

“Most alright with me.” He extended a bowl, “Here is your soup, please be careful.” The butler began to make his way to the armchair. A cough from Jason drew his attention back to the boy.

“You can…” Jason began slowly, “You can sit on the couch with me. But only if you want to!” He quickly added.

Alfred stood shocked into silence once again. Jason began to back track, which caused the butler to clear his throat and take a seat right next to the boy. Jason tensed, but relaxed back into the cushions.

Quietly they ate their soup, then they began discussing Mr. Potts’ workshop and laughed at his haircutting machine’s misadventure.

Just as Mr. Potts finished his story, Alfred glanced at his blinking watch. Master Bruce had entered the cave.

Jason stirred from his curled position, his head in the butler’s lap. Alfred softly stroked his hair. Master Bruce entered the den with wet hair. He watched Grandpa and Lord Scrumptious bowl with tin soldiers for a moment.

“I haven’t watched this in a long time.” He finally commented, voice hoarse.

“Jason seems to enjoy musicals and the skills of Mr. Van Dyke.” Alfred replied. His eyes stayed focused on the screen.

Bruce cleared his throat. “I’m sorry for my attitude this morning. I shouldn’t have been snappy with you.”

An apology from Master Bruce was about as rare as sunshine in Gotham.

Surprised, Alfred craned his neck to look at his charge. “I accept.” He replied. “Thank you.” He added.

Bruce looked at Jason curled up on Alfred’s lap. Then he turned to leave.

“Jason made tomato soup.” Alfred called softly.

Bruce turned around, “He did?”

“Yes. It’s on the stove. You are to reheat some and eat before doing anything else. I’d do it for you but,” Alfred gestured to the sleeping child, “I’m rather occupied at the moment.”

Bruce smiled. “I think I can manage soup okay.” He made to stride out of the room, but paused again. “He likes movies huh?”

“I would say very much so.”

“Hmmm.” Bruce nodded.

“You should suggest one or join us next time.” Alfred stated. “He’d like that.”

Bruce rubbed the back of his neck. “Yeah. Yeah, I guess so. When I finish eating I’ll come back to carry him off to bed.”

“No hurry.” Alfred rested his head on the back of the couch. “We’ll be right here.”

Bruce just shook his head and left.

Jason shifted a little, burying his face into Alfred’s stomach.

Alfred relaxed further. Watching Chitty take off, he allowed Jason’s steady breathing to lull him to sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was not supposed to take so long. College is sapping most of my time and creative energy.


	6. 6. Rodents and Electricity

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A short little piece about a thunderstorm.

On this particular day, Gotham decided to show off her weather in its full glory. Rain rattled the windows, wind shook the tree branches and roof shingles, and dark clouds blocked out any sliver of light.

The radio crackled with the local news. Reports of minor flooding around the main streets of the city came in. Others informed listeners that with all of the wind, some areas of the city may lose power.

Alfred winced as a branch of one of the trees scraped against the kitchen window. _Like nails on a chalkboard._ He tried to focus on slicing his carrots, but the insistent scraping and screeching were beginning to wear on his nerves.

_This spring we are definitely getting those blasted trees trimmed. This time I am not hiring a ‘tree expert’ to tell me how my trees are to be grown!_

He added the carrots to a crockpot, set it on high, and left it to simmer for the afternoon. _Chicken noodle soup is perfect for such a day like this._

The butler then checked his to-do list. With Jason’s help, he had gotten much more done than on his own.

Generally, he preferred to do things his way and on his own. Bruce had offered on multiple occasions to hire more people to help Alfred around the manor. Besides a gardener, he turned all the other offers down. It took too long for people to learn to work as a well-oiled machine. It truly was difficult to find good help, especially in Gotham. And there were few people who were able to put up with the real grumpy and stern Bruce, not the air-headed and smiley ‘Brucie’. Alfred found it simpler, quieter, and less of a headache for just him to be the sole caretaker of the manor and its inhabitants.

_Screeeeeeeech…_

What was left of his hair stood on edge. _Bloody expert!_

_Fizzle, fizzle CRACK!_

Suddenly the kitchen fell dark. Apparently the manor was inside the powerless sector.

“Alfred? ALFRED?” A voice called. _Jason._

“In the kitchen lad.” Alfred called back. He began feeling his way to the junk drawer. “Just a moment, I’m looking for a torch!” He pulled open a drawer and felt around. _There it was._ Alfred switched it on and turned, only for Jason to be right there.

“MASTER JASON!” The butler hissed, his free hand coming up to his heart. “You gave me a fright!”

“I ‘gave you a fright’? What does that even mean? And where’s the torch? Wouldn’t a flashpoint be more practical, I mean, this ain’t the Stone Age.”

“ _Isn’t_ the Stone Age, Jason.” Alfred huffed, straightening his collar. “And this,” he lifted his light source, “is a torch.”

Jason’s face twisted. “That is a _flashlight_.”

“In England we refer to them as torches.”

“Tomato, tomato then?”

“Exactly.” Alfred shined the light around the room. “The backup generator should have switched on by now… I may need to go down to the cave to turn it on manually.” He reached back into the drawer, then handed Jason a second torch. “I shall return shortly.”

“Wait!” Jason clicked on his light. “I-I’ll come with you.”

“It’s quite alright and there’s many steps going down into the cave, I wouldn’t want you to fall-”

“No, no, it’s okay. Wouldn’t want you to fall too. Besides, the more hands the better…”

Alfred chuckled, “of course Master Jason.”

They walked into the study where Alfred triggered the opening mechanism on the grandfather clock. Then, they carefully maneuvered the stairs into the cave. Alfred shivered in the chilly air. The light of his torch lit up the wet rock of the cave. This combined with the roaring wind disturbed some of the cave bats. They flew over the butler and Jason’s heads, chirping with irritation.

Jason grimaced at the flying creatures. “They’re creepy.”

“They’re on alert because of the storm. Normally, they are not this active.”

They walked further, finally, once they neared the storage cases, they were at the generator. Alfred handed his torch to Jason, who shined it at the generator along with his own and knelt to begin tinkering.

“Ah,” Alfred gestured to the right of the generator, “it appears the wire for the automatic switch has been damaged.” He held up the end of a wire with tiny little marks. “It seems I must set up some more traps,” he commented dryly.

Jason shivered, “I hate mice. They’re so gross with those little pink feet.”

“They are definitely not the most sanitary creatures,” Alfred agreed. “Master Dick went through a phase where he insisted that he wanted a pet mouse. After a week of repeated ‘no’s’ from Master Bruce and myself he gave up the issue. Then, one afternoon when I was restocking supplies down here, I heard a large amount of squeaking.” Alfred sat back on his ankles, “in the foot of the dinosaur, there was a nest made for around ten mice!”

“That,” Jason itched his neck, “that is gross.”

“As it turns out, the reason Richard dropped the issue was because he found the mouse nest and began caring for them.” Alfred replied.

“I couldn’t think of anybody wantin’ to keep mice as pets.” Jason adjusted his grip on the flashlights, “we had ‘nough problems gettin’ rid of them in the apartments. Couldn’t imagine wantin’ to _keep_ one around on purpose.”

Alfred flipped another switch which caused the generator to roar to life. Lights in the cave came on, triggering the rest of the bats.

Alfred and Jason ducked as the bats swarmed around then out of the cave. Jason covered his head and darted towards the stairs, flashlight held high like a club.

“I’ve had enough of rodents, let’s get out!”

The butler walked with haste _(not running mind you)_ after the boy.

Once they returned to the kitchen, Alfred reset his crockpot. “Unfortunately, dinner will now be slightly delayed. And do please wash your hands, we don’t want any potential diseases our _friends_ might have.”

Jason grimaced again and rushed to the sink. He thrust his hands under the steaming water and pumped several large globs of soap into his palms. For a solid thirty seconds he scrubbed before rinsing. He then dried his hands while Alfred took his place at the sink.

At the butler’s small grin he frowned.

“They teach about that Hannah virus in the Narrows too ya’know,” he muttered.

“ _Hantavirus,_ and as they should,” Alfred stated. “Master Dick never took any of that seriously. He was lucky.”

0000ooo0000

Over the course of the rest of the afternoon, Jason re-watched _Mary Poppins_ while Alfred re-read _Hamlet._ Shortly before 5 o’clock the phone rang. Alfred answered.

“The Wayne residence, how can I help you?”

“Alfred, it’s Bruce. The storm is so bad a majority of the roads are closed off. I’m going to stay in the city for the night. Is everything alright out there?”

“Yes sir, all is well. We lost power, but I turned on the back-up generator.”

“Shouldn’t it have turned on by itself?” Bruce questioned.

“It appears that our mouse problem has returned,” Alfred replied dryly, mentally reminding himself to purchase more traps.

Bruce groaned, “Do not allow Dick to find out. The last thing we need is another family of mice as pets.”

“Of course sir.”

“Is Jason okay?”

Alfred glanced at the near dozing boy on the sofa, “Perfectly.”

“Excellent. See you tomorrow. Don’t hesitate to call if you need anything.”

“The same for yourself. Goodnight.”

Alfred hung up the phone and returned to his book. Around half an hour later he decided the soup had sat long enough. He reached over to gently rouse Jason.

“Jason? Lad? Would you care for some dinner?”

Jason’s eyes blinked into focus. “Huh? Dinner?”

“Yes, the chicken soup?”

The mention of soup caused the boy to sit up and stretch before he jumped to his feet.

“Race ya to the kitchen!” Then, he dashed out of the room.

Alfred turned off the television, then, as he was putting away his book, he heard Jason scream.

Quickly he rushed into the kitchen to find Jason wide-eyed and standing on the counter.

“Whatever happened? Are you alright?” He questioned while scanning the boy for injury.

“ _There was a stupid mouse in here!”_

_The butler made a mental note to purchase twice as many traps once the roads were cleared._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I started this in November. School destroyed me until finals ended. I returned to what I had written and couldn't remember where I was going with this, so it's not my best. However, I'm going to be working on a nice, hopefully long, insert for Christmas!


End file.
